


The Favour

by Jonathan Riley (jj_minerva)



Category: Hornblower (TV), Sharpe - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Crossover Pairing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-26
Updated: 2011-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 23:12:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jj_minerva/pseuds/Jonathan%20Riley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William Lawford and Lord Edrington decide the fate of Richard Sharpe [read notes]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Favour

**Author's Note:**

> There is a line in Bernard Cornwell's 'Sharpe's Rifles' that has always intrigued me. About three pages into chapter one, Major Warren Dunnett and Captain John Murray are discussing the new quartermaster, Lieutenant Richard Sharpe. Read on....
> 
> Dunnett spat. "I didn't want him in this Battalion, and I still don't want him in this Battalion. The Colonel only took him on as a favour to Willie Lawford. What the hell is the army coming to?"
> 
> The 'Battalion' Dunnett is speaking of is, of course, the 95th Rifles but who is the Colonel? Well let us imagine... We know the date is January 1809. We know that a few years earlier Lord Edrington had been a Major with the 95th Rifles in an episode of the Horatio Hornblower mini series. Could it be possible that Edrington has risen to the rank of Colonel? After all, a wealthy Lord would have no trouble buying a Colonel's commission, would he? And just what did this 'favour' involve?
> 
> Here at last are details of that meeting between William Lawford, himself still a major with the 33rd and Lord Edrington, Colonel of the 95th Rifles, where the fate of Richard Sharpe was negotiated.

Part 1

Horseguards, June 1807.

William Lawford would not accept failure. He was well aware of what he may have to do to achieve his goal, but as always he was prepared to do much to ensure the following negotiations were successful. After all it was Richard Sharpe's career that was at stake; Richard, dear Richard, and William Lawford had long ago vowed that where Richard Sharpe was concerned, he would do anything.

Sometimes he wondered at the powerful spell under which he had fallen, the almost obsessive attraction that he had for Sharpe. But then he would cease trying to understand it for there was no rhythm or reason to love; it simply was. That Sharpe's own attraction was something lesser in nature had ceased to bother Lawford and he told himself that Richard would change. In time Sharpe would see what Lawford had done for him, all for him, because he was first and foremost in Lawford's heart. Then Richard would understand and return that love a thousand fold.

Taking a deep breath, Lawford squared his shoulders, flicked his head slightly to send his fine fair hair fluttering back over his shoulders and entered the drawing room. The heavy smell of cigar smoke momentarily made his eyes waters and he quickly pulled a cologne scented handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his nose, breathing deeply to dispel the unpleasant odours.

From here and there eyes were raised in curiosity at the newcomer but they quickly returned to their papers or books when satisfied. William Lawford was becoming well known at Horseguards. It was a position that would have left many young Officers overjoyed, but it left Lawford feeling faintly ashamed. There was no doubt as to why his name was now being whispered around the room as his acquaintances pointed him out to their friends.

Let them whisper, he thought to himself as he raised his chin a little and walked quietly between the wing backed chairs. Let them say all they liked behind his back, they'd still come to him, begging on their knees, the next time they wanted him to warm their beds.

Favours for favours....it hardly sounded licentious at all! Many young men had benefactors who mentored them in their careers. Rich friends or family members, like his own uncle, the late General McCandless, who had bought him his first commission. But McCandless was dead these past four years and Lawford had been left to seek patronage elsewhere if he was to have any hope of advancing in his career in the His Majesty's Army. It had all been surprisingly simple really. There had been any number of Majors and Colonels and Generals only too willing to support a young naïve Lieutenant of somewhat impoverished means.

Well, perhaps not so naïve; Richard Sharpe had taken care of that aspect of his education and what a delightful experience it had been. An experience that far surpassed simple physical pleasure in a way that Lawford had not known before and had never felt since. So Lawford told himself that he had no need to feel shame when trading his body for favours or money or promotion. He told himself that he was doing it for Richard Sharpe whom he loved above all men. He had bartered his way to his own position as Major knowing that the higher he climbed in rank the more able he would be to help Sharpe. Just as he was doing now.

"My Lord, Colonel Edrington? I wonder if I may have a word?"

Dark eyes looked up, faintly annoyed at the interruption.

"And you are...? I don't believe we have been introduced Major?" Long strong fingers folded the letter that the Colonel had been reading and placed it into the breast pocket of his bright red uniform.

"Lawford, my Lord, Major William Lawford. I have the pleasure of serving with the 33rd, in Dublin."

"Ah, Lawford, yes, I have heard of you."

Was it just his imagination or was there a slight inflection attached to the Colonel's words. Lawford took in the expensive uniform, richly decorated with gold braid, the aristocratic tilt to the head, the fair hair tied severely back in a tight cue and the slight sneer that lay upon the thin lips. Perhaps it was simply this man's way when addressing those he felt were his social inferiors. As the younger son of a now impoverished family, Lawford had no title other than 'The Honourable Mr'. Clearly Edrington was a man who liked to flaunt his superiority.

"I would like to speak to you about a certain Lieutenant who is attached to your Regiment, Colonel. His name is Richard Sharpe."

Edrington gestured towards a nearby chair and waited for Lawford to be seated. The dark eyes looked him up and down in assessment.

"I know of the man you refer to Major. Has he committed some crime?"

Strange that the Colonel should think such a thing of Richard, for Sharpe had become a model soldier. But the slur of the ranks was a hard burden to shrug and Richard Sharpe had a long way to go before his fellow officers would forget his humble beginnings.

"No, quite the contrary, Colonel. Richard is a brave and trustworthy soldier. His courage and valour are without question. He deserves far more than to be left cooling his heels as the regimental stores clerk at the barracks."

Edrington raised his fair eyebrows and regarded Lawford silently for a few moments.

"I take it that you know this man quite well, Major. Your words betray a familiarity that is...unusual. Is he a...favourite of yours?"

Lawford blushed at Edrington's astuteness. "He is my friend, Colonel. He saved my uncle's life in India in 99 and I have him to thank for my own life several times over. It is my duty as his friend to speak out when I see him being undervalued."  
"A very noble speech, Major, but one I find hard to understand. The man is a commoner, promoted from the ranks, it seems unlikely that you and he have ever shared a...mutual...friendship."

The insinuation was plain and Lawford felt the sting of the words. "Richard Sharpe was never my play thing, Colonel!" he hissed out under his breath and watched as Edrington's eyes registered this new information and proceeded to make even more judgments.

"But he was your something, Lawford, or am I to disbelieve all the rumours I have heard regarding you?"

Ahh, at last, Lawford let go his breath in something like a sigh. It was almost a relief to have it all out on the table, to no longer have to play the innocent, to pretend that there might be some other way to achieve what he so desperately desired.

"No, the rumours are all true, Colonel, so you must also know how far I am prepared to go to get what I want. It's quite simple really. "

For a long moment Edrington sat silent, staring into Lawford's clear blue eyes, his gaze direct and challenging. Lawford looked away.

"And what exactly is it that you want Major? What is it that you want for your Richard Sharpe?"

Lawford looked back, straight into those unreadable dark eyes. "I want him to be given a position in a line battalion where he has the opportunity of promotion. He can never hope to buy a captaincy...he knows he must earn one on the battlefield, but he will never have the chance if he stays buried away at the barracks. Just give him that chance Colonel, you won't be disappointed."

"I think that very much remains to be seen, Major," Edrington said very softly. But he nodded then, as if suddenly reaching a decision. "Very well. Meet me tonight in my rooms for supper. We will discuss your Lieutenant Sharpe further."

Lawford stood without meeting Edrington's eyes again. "Thank you my Lord."

 

Part 2

Colonel Edrington's Rooms, London.

 

What a strange man! What a very strange young man!

Colonel Edrington surveyed the table set for two and frowned. There was something unsettling about William Lawford.

Certainly Lawford's reputation as a sycophant had preceded him. He'd known that the young Major made it a habit of trading his body in return for various favours. But Edrington had not expected Lawford to do so for the benefit of some obscure lieutenant in the name of friendship. There was something about the way the Lawford spoke Sharpe's name, the look in his eyes as if he was remembering other times and other places. Edrington casually touched the letter still nestled in the breast pocket of his uniform. That look had reminded him of someone else.

"Major William Lawford, Sir," announced the manservant and Edrington turned to greet his guest. You could not call Lawford handsome...beautiful was perhaps a better description. It was a delicate beauty too, not unlike that found in women. Long fair hair, so fine that it looked almost white in the room's gentle candle light. Smooth chin, cleanly shaven with clearly defined features set off by those strangely innocent blue eyes and their long lashes. Yet at the same time there was nothing frail or effeminate about the young major. He was tall, slightly taller than Edrington himself and whilst he was slender of build, there was a wiry strength about him which belied any sort of weakness.

"Welcome Major, or perhaps we should drop the formality for the evening? May I call you William?"

The soft red lips smiled shyly and the fair lashes blinked. "Yes, my Lord, you may." If it was done for affect, then Lawford was a consummate flirt. "And you, my Lord? What should I call you?"

"My Lord will do quite nicely for the moment."

"As you wish, my Lord," was Lawford's reply and Edrington thought he could see a small flash of uncertainty in the blues eyes.

They seated themselves and supper was served, but Edrington paid little attention to the food he was eating as he studied his guest. Despite the calm, confident exterior, it soon became apparent that Lawford was nervous as he toyed silently with his food waiting for Edrington to speak.

"So tell me about this Richard Sharpe. How did you meet him and what sort of a man is he?"

As Lawford began his story, Edrington could see the light spark again in the blue eyes and he sat back content to listen. The tale he heard was that of a young Lieutenant away from home for the first time in India, uncertain of his abilities and trying hard to find his place in the Light company and gain the respect of the men he was supposed to be leading. He spoke of how he had found friendship in the most unlikely of places and how a common man from the ranks had taught him more about being a man than any gentlemen he had met or book he had read. It was a tale of heroics and courage and friendship and love, although that last insight was gained more by watching Lawford and reading behind the words rather than by any confession. It was a tale that did much to dispel the image created by Officer's club rumour and sly innuendo.

Perhaps there was another side to William Lawford, another facet so rarely given the chance to shine, that few had shared the privilege.

"So you see my Lord, Richard is truly worthy of your trust and a place of responsibility in your regiment. I would do anything," a slender hand reached across the table and gently caressed Edrington's own. "Anything," Lawford stressed again. "To ensure he is given that chance."

Edrington had known all along what Lawford was prepared to do. He had initially invited the blonde Major to supper with just that thought in mind. He lived in a world of men where such liaisons were hardly unusual. The army, the navy, it did not really matter. In the absence of women, men would seek out each other's companionship in its many and varied forms.

In his own youth Edrington had partaken of varied exotic pleasures and whilst no longer a venal man, he was not abject to a casual liaison when the opportunity presented itself. But he had come to realise something very important in his forty years of living; that no amount of sexual gratification could ever make up for the lack of true love or friendship. Had Lawford yet learnt that lesson?

Lawford's eyes were looking at him full of hope and desperation and yes, even a touch of fear, and Edrington had to forcefully stop himself from asking if Richard Sharpe was worth such a price? Did Sharpe have any idea what his friend was doing? Surely if he loved Lawford as much in return, he would not allow such a thing to take place. But perhaps Sharpe didn't know, perhaps he lived in ignorance or worse still, perhaps he was happy to let Lawford debase himself in this manner and laughed about it behind his back. Lawford would not be the first gentleman of breeding to be made look a fool by a boy from the gutters.

It was Edrington's curiosity that finally won out. "Here's your chance to convince me William." Edrington rose silently from the table and led the way to his spacious bedroom. William Lawford followed dutifully behind. A single candle provided light in a room almost Spartan in its austerity. But the walls were arrayed with a collection of fine swords and rifles, whips and riding crops creating an atmosphere of dark aggression.

Behind him, Edrington heard Lawford's sharp intake of breath and he turned suddenly to catch a quickly disguised look of uncertainty. "You did say anything, dear William." He ran his hand down Lawford's smooth cheek and watched the emotions run through his expressive eyes. "Yes," was the unsteady reply.

Did Lawford know that his very soul was reflected in his eyes? How many men had played on the knowledge they had gained by asking questions and gazing into those innocent blue eyes as they gauged the answers? Or had they never looked past the pretty façade, the fluttering lashes, and teasing lips? Had they assumed that there was nothing more to see?

"Come," Edrington held out his hand and drew Lawford towards the bed where they both undressed in silence without touching. But his eyes were drawn to the flawless beauty that Lawford slowly revealed, and Edrington was reminded of another who would be about this age now. Twenty nine, Thirty? Where ever had the years gone?

As they settled into the large cold bed a silence descended, broken only by the sound of Lawford's breathing, slightly uneven, tense; a sound reminiscent of his own breathing just before a battle. Edrington leaned over Lawford and watched the blue eyes waiver slightly. "What is your pleasure, my Lord?" He leaned closer, never breaking contact with those blue eyes as they slowly became wider, then flicked suddenly to the collection on the wall.

"I know many things, many...delights, my Lord." The words were delivered on warm breath that fanned across Edrington's skin, a sensation that aroused him unexpectedly. As if on cue, Lawford exhaled again, reminding Edrington that for all his innocent ways and looks, Lawford was a professional, quite capable of picking up his every weakness and playing him along.

"Rough or gentle...my Lord?" There was a definite taut in the words now, as if Lawford thought he knew what game was on offer here and was preparing to play along. No doubt he too had experienced most things and thought there was little Edrington could show him that he had not experienced before.

Oh how did you come by such a dark soul, my beauty? How did you loose yourself so completely? For despite a past devoted to hedonism, Edrington had never fallen so far into that entrapment that he had lost his sense of self. Yet here was a man who no longer valued his own self worth; who put another's career above his own well being. It was tragic.

Once more Edrington reached out and caressed the smooth cheek. He let his fingers tangle in the soft strands of hair that drifted across the sheets. Lawford reached up and gently tugged loose Edrington's queue, allowing his hair to spring free in a riot of unruly curls.

"Oh, my Lord, what beautiful hair. Why do you hide it?" The words were honest, that much was certain, for Edrington had been reading those eyes again and saw in them the childlike surprise as his hair had leapt to life.

They lay like that, hands in each other's hair, bodies pressed together, eyes locked until Edrington broke the silence and whispered,

"Let us play a game, a game of pretend?"

That faint flash of fear again, but this time it stabbed at Edrington's heart and he wondered what had befallen Lawford over the years because of his blind trust.

"What shall we pretend, my Lord?"

Edrington leant down and brushed a kiss across Lawford's lips, but drew away again not waiting for any response

"Firstly, you must call me F.G, William."

"F.G?"

"Yes, they are my initials. They stand for Frederick George," a grin appeared on Edrington's face, "Among other things. Perhaps I will tell you later."

"F.G," Lawford whispered as if trying the name out. He smiled too. "I think I can imagine exactly what else they might stand for." The smile widened. "Now what is it you want me to pretend, F.G?"

Edrington leaned down and kissed Lawford briefly again. He felt Lawford's arms reach around his waist this time and pull him closer, bringing their bodies into alignment.

"I want you to pretend, just for tonight, that you care a little for me, William."

"What?" Lawford pulled back and tried to sit up, but Edrington had the advantage and held him in place with the weight of his body. The blue eyes darted away in a last attempt at escape.

"William, listen to me, it isn't so very much, really." The fair head remained turned away.

"I am not asking you to betray what is in your heart, or even to think about me tomorrow, but just for a while, could we not pretend that this is something more than just your payment for my helping Richard Sharpe?"

"Why?"

Edrington shook his head, for he did not know himself. Perhaps he was tired of meaningless sex, perhaps he wanted to shake Lawford's cool composure and superiority, or perhaps he wanted to somehow make Lawford see that by living his life this way he was throwing away any chance of ever finding something more.

"Because you are worth far more than this William. You deserve far better." Lawford remained unmoved by the words. "I will tell you this now, William, I promise I will see what I can do for your friend because I was moved by the story you told me at dinner. You are free to go now if you want, there is no payment expected."

Lawford looked back, a sly smile on his lips. "I heard something very similar a long time ago. I stayed then, out of duty, out of loneliness...I can't remember which now. But it was still payment you see. There is always some form of payment." Slender fingers reached up and touched Edrington's face, tracing across his lips and fine moustache.

"Are you lonely too, my Lord?"

"That's it, isn't it William," Edrington seized Lawford's hand roughly and pulled his hand away. "You are in love with Richard Sharpe but he really doesn't give a damn about you. So you do this," Edrington thrust his hips at Lawford to press his point. "It's not to help the bastard, it's to try and forget him!"

"No! You don't know what you are saying. Richard loves me, he does!"

"I know exactly what I am saying. I have done the same thing myself, tried to forget a broken heart by fucking everything that walked past. Telling myself that one day he would love me back, one day he would notice and finally get jealous. But it doesn't work William, it simply does not work like that."

The blue eyes were filling with tears and Edrington released the wrist he was still holding appalled to see a purple bruise already showing.

"I am sorry, William, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Lawford glanced at the bruise and shrugged. "It's nothing, what's a few bruises anyway." He wiped his hand quickly across his eyes before looking back to Edrington.

"If you have felt the same way and done the same things, then you will know that I can not give up hope." There was desperation in the words, a cry for understanding, one to which Edrington responded.

"Yes, I know, but in time you will come to see it as I do now. Some things can never be. If you have this man's friendship then let that be enough. Do not destroy yourself trying to win his love in a way that would only alienate him if he were to know."

"And what of your love? What happened to him?"

"I have his friendship and from time to time when we meet I share his bed, but there have never been any words of love spoken between us and there never will be. He loves another."

Edrington rolled away onto his side, lost for the moment in his own memories. He half expected Lawford to rise and leave and was surprised when he felt a gentle pressure against his back and a hand come to rest on his arm. There was a comfort in lying like that, spooned together, like friends. Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances, a friendship between them might have been possible.

"When I told you that I had been asked that question once before," Lawford began very softly, "I should have mentioned that I was very young and very naïve and no good judge of men or their deceptions." He moved closer, sliding his hand down Edrington's arm until he twined their fingers together.

"But for all my foolishness, I have come to be a fair judge of men." He gave a bitter laugh. "I learnt the hard way, but learn I did."

Soft lips touched Edrington's shoulder, "What I am trying to say, F.G, is that I would like to stay because...I like you..."

Edrington didn't hesitate, he turned and took William Lawford in his arms before either of them could think or speak. Lips met in a gnash of teeth and desperation as the dam of loneliness burst, unleashing a torrent of savage need. Lawford matched him, mirrored him as they devoured each other with mouth and teeth. But Edrington allowed the desperation to burn away, to be replaced by a passion that smouldered more slowly but equally as hot. They kissed and caressed, exploring every inch of each others body, with hands and mouth, driving each other to a delicious agony; waiting to see who would give in first, who would beg for satisfaction.

He's waiting for me to do it or to ask, Edrington deduced with the one small corner of his brain that was still capable of rational thought. It was as if, for Lawford, this was all merely part of an elaborately rehearsed dance; his skin was flushed and his breathing was ragged but he still seemed to be in complete control. It was a challenge, one that Edrington almost leapt to take; to make this man loose control and scream his name and forget about Richard Sharpe if only for a few hours.

Edrington put his own thoughts of pleasure behind him with a self-control that only comes with age and experience. He concentrated instead on the man beneath him as he slowed down the kisses and touches even more.

"What's wrong?" Lawford hesitated, then stopped what he was doing and sat up a little.

"What's wrong?" He asked again, growing a little agitated.

"Nothing, but I want to know what you want? What you want me to do?"

"Anything, what ever is your pleasure."

"Yes but I want to know what YOU like William? Tell me." Edrington gathered him close, holding him gently, surprised by the sudden vulnerability he saw in Lawford's eyes. He brushed the fine hair back, waiting, wondering, wishing he knew this man a little better so that he could guess at what it was that Lawford looked for. Whatever it was, Richard Sharpe held the secret although Edrington wondered if the man truly knew what a prize he held. A prize? Was that it? For surely all those years ago, that must have been exactly how Richard Sharpe had perceived the pretty young Lieutenant. A prize above all else, something so fine and perfect that Lawford was out of his reach. Had it been that awe, that worship, that had captured Lawford's heart? Or had it been the fragile care that Sharpe must have lavished on him, a care that he had never known before or found since, remaining like a Holy Grail in Lawford's mind.

It was so simple, surely there had to be more, but as Edrington looked into Lawford's eyes again, and gently stroked his face, he realised the truth that he had discovered. And he found it was so simple to care for William Lawford. The strange mix of innocence and sensuality, the trust so freely given even after it had been abused by others; the simple faith in a love that was doomed from the start and which blinded him to all else. All these qualities only added to the mystery that made up William Lawford and reminded Edrington even more so now, of another; Archie Kennedy.

"William, dear William," Edrington sighed, wishing there was a way to break through the barrier that Lawford had erected around his own heart.

Sometimes wishes are answered, sometimes circumstances grant us favours and sometimes honesty and goodness are rewarded. Whatever the reason, Edrington detected a subtle change come over Lawford, a shyness creep into the blue eyes as they lay there in each others arms.

"What do you want William," Edrington whispered again.

"Will you make love to me?" was Lawford's reply.

 

Part 3

Later that night...

As they lay exhausted together, their tired sweaty limbs still dangerously entwined, William Lawford's thoughts kept returning to the man almost asleep on his shoulder. With an astuteness that Lawford found disturbing, Edrington had seen right through his usual masquerade and looked deep into his soul, something few men, if any, had ever done before.

Had Richard Sharpe ever been that observant? Had Richard ever looked past the lust to see the love hiding just below the surface? Even if he had, Sharpe would not have voiced his discovery. Lawford sighed; Richard was annoyingly silent when it came to feelings and emotions. The comforting sound of contented breathing lulled Lawford into his own state of light sleep and he imagined that for once he lay in the arms of a lover and that what they had shared was pure and uncomplicated; forged from friendship rather than self deception.

He woke with a start, the sun streaming into a room that he had only seen in deepest shadow before. The array of weapons and riding paraphernalia which had, at first sight worried Lawford the night before, now seemed quite harmless in the light of day. Perhaps, Lawford mused, it was that he trusted Edrington now; that he had seen what sort of man he truly was and no longer feared the unknown. As if on cue the Colonel returned to the bedroom bearing a tea tray that he settled onto the night stand. He was dressed in a loose robe which he shed unconsciously before climbing into bed once more and staring intently at Lawford.

"Thank you my Lord." Lawford said, for want of anything better to say. He hated the awkwardness that always came with the daylight and usually made it a habit to leave rather than spend the night. Against all his better judgment he had stayed.

"So formal again William?" Edrington said sadly, his eyes almost wistful. Fingers gently brushed Lawford's fair hair back from his face and smoothed it into place. "I thought perhaps that last night was..."

The silence was deafening. Lawford closed his eyes and imagined he could hear the clock ticking in the other room. Perhaps it was Edrington's heart beating, a sound that had comforted him as he had slept. They had made love several times throughout the night. That he let himself think of it in those terms did nothing to make this morning any easier. Lawford simply did not know how to respond.

"I thought that we could at least be friends now?" Edrington tried again and Lawford knew he would have to say something or risk hurting this man. But did he want to lead him on with false hopes of things that could never be? Lawford bit his lip and looked up.

There was a sad amusement in the dark eyes that were waiting, not unlike the look one gave to a child who transgressed because they knew no better. Lawford had often looked at Richard Sharpe like that.

"F.G," he whispered quietly, trying to regain some of what he had felt last night. "We can be friends, but I have to return to Dublin tomorrow. It would be foolish to hope that there could ever be anything between us."

"Well we can spend the day together at least. I'd like that William, truly. Just as friends, because I think you need a friend more than anything else."

The words startled even as they warmed his heart. Lawford nodded, "Yes I'd like that too. Perhaps we could drive out to the barracks and I could introduce you to Richard. I promised him I would see him before I left. You can meet him and see for yourself what sort of a man he is."

"Oh I have no doubt as to what sort of a man he is. I am going to keep him very close to me, you can be sure of that."

What? Surely Edrington wouldn't stoop to stealing Richard? Lawford opened his mouth to protest, but the dark eyes gleamed again and Edrington continued. "For I know that wherever Richard Sharpe is you won't be far behind, William, and I sincerely hope to see more of YOU!"

Lawford smiled shyly at the flirtatious words. "I think that could be arranged, my Lord" he said coyly. It came as no surprise when Edrington reached for him again and Lawford complied, happy to be rolled beneath the hard body once again, to feel the strong arms around him, holding him. The confident way Edrington laid claim to his body; caressed it, possessed it, made him feel as if he belonged to someone.

As they sipped the now cold tea together sometime later, silence once more descended. But it was a comfortable silence this time, as each man relaxed, knowing that they had forged something special here, something that would remain with them long after they had parted.

Edrington was the first to speak. "I am looking forward to meeting your Richard Sharpe." He turned his turned his head slightly and fixed Lawford with a teasing smile. "And I am looking forward to having him under me, William."

Lawford fluttered his lashes and put on his own coy smile, comfortable in the knowledge that Edrington was only teasing.

"That is the LAST place you are likely to have him, F.G. Richard likes to be on top!"

 

Originally written February 2000  
Edited February 2011

**Author's Note:**

> In the Hornblower mini series Lord Edrington was never given a first name. In our group of fanfic writers he was known affectionately as F.G which stood for Fucking Gorgeous. When I came to write about him I couldn't help giving a little nod to the nickname as well as giving him a real name with the same initials.  
> JJ


End file.
